29 September 2011

Red sky at night, something something something

Twenty-five and a half degrees yesterday, the warmest day of the year. Today's not too shabby either, a positively Continental twenty-two degrees. In September. And not just September, so late-September that its basically pre-October.

Being not-so-much a glass-half-empty as a glass-in-shards-strewn-across-the-floor-like-the-shattered-remnants-of-the-dreams-you-once-held-dear type of guy, days like today only remind me of just how poo the rest of the year was. Remember the summer? No, neither do I.

Sadly complaining about the weather in Ireland is a futile as voting in a Presidential election. Luckily for Democracy I still plan on doing both.

Anyway, here's some pretty pictures of the sunset over Tipperary on Sunday evening, taken out the window of a rapidly-moving car on the M8. That's more information than you probably needed to know, but I'm still quite amazed that I found myself in Tipperary of a weekend, any weekend, let alone this weekend.

See, you don't need cataracts and an artificial lake to become an Impressionist, a nice fast stretch of motorway will do almost as well in a pinch.

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